


No Light, No Light

by ThankYouForTheMusicKlaine



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Blayne, F/M, Trans Female Character, Trans!Blaine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-12 06:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4469531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThankYouForTheMusicKlaine/pseuds/ThankYouForTheMusicKlaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>trans!Blayne one-shots. Blayne Anderson's journey to becoming Blayne and tossing aside the mask that is Blaine Anderson. Warnings for MTF!Blayne, dysphoria, and internalized misogyny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Light, No Light: Prolouge

Somedays all Blayne seemed to be was a doll. A Ken doll perhaps, but with seams that itched to tear, a frozen smile that felt of plastic and salted tears.   
She spent those days quiet. No solos, no outbursts. Just strolling along Kurt’s side like a good boyfriend, bowtie wrapped around her neck and hair firmly pressed into her head. She thought a lot on days like that. What he would say if he saw the real her. Not a Barbie doll, not quite, but perhaps a Raggedy Anne. Stitched together with long curls and lacy ribbons, for once not torn apart by lies like “he” and “boyfriend”.   
Often Blayne couldn’t fathom the unfairness of it all. Kurt was a vision of Ken doll perfection, all crisp collars and hair-sprayed waves of chocolatey brown. And Blayne knew without a doubt, that Kurt was meant for someone like that. Like Blaine. Another perfect doll-like creature, with debonair good-looks and lovely wingtipped shoes. She wasn’t meant for Kurt. But Kurt was meant for her. She knew that to be fact. It was in the way he moved, the way he breathed. The way his lips felt against her’s, like for that moment all was right in the world. She let herself imagine it, sometimes. Imagine herself in a pretty dress, purple perhaps, one of Kurt’s creation, that was for sure. Coming home from work, singing a higher range under her breath, an alto at least. Him slipping his hands around her waist, kissing her on the cheek. Pencil marks would line his face as he’d excitedly tell her about his latest fashion achievement and she’d sigh happily.   
But visions like that were often replaced. The light in his eyes fading as he shook his head. She wasn’t silly, she knew he’d let her down easy. But he wouldn’t stay, that was for sure.   
“Blaine… I’m gay,” he’d stutter. Or worse, he’d laugh. “No you’re not.” he’d say in disbelief.   
But she was. She’d known it for so long, by the time she gave her heart to Kurt the secret was etched into it’s beats. In fact, the day she met Kurt she was going to tell someone. Wes to be precise, the sweet Warbler who’d befriended her from day one. He’d recently told her he had a brother who was transgender and she had immediately prepared a whole speech. She would tell him after the Teenage Dream performance, ask to talk to him after. She was rushing to meet him before the show when she heard the voice chime behind her.   
At first glance, Blayne had thought perhaps she’d found someone even better. With his high voice and rounded face, Blayne had briefly wondered if Kurt was FTM. She quickly realized otherwise when he told her of his bullying problems. And, in a way that had become so perfectly Blaine and Blayne all at once, she realized she couldn’t possibly come out now. This boy, this lovely, lonely teenager, needed a man. He needed someone stronger than the girl Blayne was. And so the mask of Blaine solidified, becoming tangled with Blayne’s heart as she handed it so willingly to Kurt Hummel. A woman’s heart, given to the one person she wanted, the one person who would never want it. Not if he knew.


	2. No Light, No Light

Blayne stared at her reflection in her bathroom mirror, tugging at her hair. Pulling a curl down to rest against her cheek, she smiled softly.   
“Blaine honey you really need to let me give you a haircut,” Kurt pressed a kiss to her cheek as he passed behind her, grabbing his toothbrush.   
A quiet sigh, pressing her lips together. “Oh, yeah. It’s-It’s getting there isn’t it?”  
Kurt gave an exaggerated nod, rolling his eyes as he scrubbed at his teeth.   
It was really a testament to how much Blayne loved him that she didn’t hate him in moments like this. She normally did, with other people. When Rachel called her a “dreamboat”, when Mr. Shue called her “leading man material”. But with Kurt, she couldn’t help but simply hate herself. She was trapping him, she was lying to him.   
But Blayne selfishly enjoyed the little moments. Like now, as Kurt draped a hand around her waist, spitting into the sink. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine her waist a little smaller, his grip a little tighter and her hair a little longer. And of course, she could ignore the spitting part. On one hand it was domestic, on the other she was a girl.  
Kurt glanced at his watch.“You know,” he said, movements speeding up. “This whole sexy sleepover thing would be a lot easier if we lived together,”  
They’d had the discussion so many times, the fight even. Kurt thought it was because Blaine was afraid of commitment. Blayne knew it was because she was afraid Kurt wouldn’t like what he found in packed boxes. The dress she’d bought with her first paycheck, pink and frilly and ridiculous. The makeup she’d bought on her sixteenth birthday. And of course, her New York clothes, the ones she had brought in a promise to herself to come out before she moved to the city, the ones she had never even tried on.   
“Kurt…”  
“I know, I know,” he chimed, miming locking his lips. “But seriously it’s getting ridiculous,”  
Nodding mutely, Blayne checked her reflection one last time before exiting the bathroom. Kurt followed quickly, opening his drawer and grabbing ties with practiced ease. He frowned at the collection in his hand, holding two up to his chest.   
“Orange with black and white?” he said. “Or gold with flowers?”  
She glanced outside at the oppressive winter fog. “Flowers, we can pretend its spring for the day,”  
A wicked grin flew across Kurt’s face. “Florals? For spring? Groundbreaking.”  
Blayne laughed as Kurt spun out of the room in a flurry of cologne and hairspray.  
“I love you!” she sang.  
Kurt pranced back through the doorway, hair falling into his eyes. “I love you too,”   
A light peck to her cheek and he was gone for the day, leaving Blayne to her room. She swallowed, delicately picking herself up and carrying her quivering body to the bathroom.  
A thin but undeniably masculine face stared at her from the mirror, curls lining a hard jaw and thick eyebrows. She licked her lips.   
“I bet if I straightened it, it’d cover my ears,” she said to herself. Her voice no longer wavered when she said things like this, instead it seemed stronger than ever. She shook her head, grabbing Kurt’s hairspray from the counter. Blayne stared at it for a second before placing it back in it’s drawer and reaching for her hair gel. She sang softly as she worked it through her hair.  
“You want a revelation,  
You wanna get it right  
But it's a conversation,  
I just can't have tonight”


	3. Oh Darling

Burt Hummel had thought he’d seen it all. He thought to some extent, he was done stretching the limits of his understanding. If there was one thing he’d learned from having Kurt as a son, it was that there was no limit to that but still, he’d thought he’d grown enough in one decade.   
Pulling a blush-colored lacy gown out of his son’s boyfriend’s moving box, he realized he was quite wrong.   
“Blaine,” he called, taking off his baseball cap.   
Blaine buzzed into the room, humming a tune under his breath. He froze. “Oh god,” he said.  
Burt cleared his throat. “Look son, I don’t really need to know, you know what you and Kurt-I just umm… Where should I put the box?”  
Blaine pressed his lips together, tears forming at the edge of his tawny eyes. “I’ll just…” he trailed off, avoiding eye contact with the older man. Teardrops stained the hardwood beneath them as Blaine reached forward to take the dress, his eyes remaining planted towards the ground.  
“Blaine, look buddy, it’s okay-”  
“No. No it’s not.” Blaine said harshly, grabbing the dress. He pushed it into the box, wiping at his eyes. “Kurt’s going to be back with lunch soon, we should get some of this cleared off the table,” he said. He made to move the box before hesitating, blinking back more tears. He was trembling.  
“Look what you and Kurt do is your-”  
“Please stop saying that,” Blaine choked.   
Breathes were beginning to become uneven now, the shaking growing stronger and eyes growing larger. Like trapped prey, Blaine stared around the loft hollowly. Burt swallowed.  
“Blaine, does Kurt know about this?” he asked carefully.  
The room was silent. Blaine turned to Burt, his expression that of a woman being robbed of her child.  
No. Burt thought.  
“Please. Don’t. Tell him.” Blayne whispered. Her eyes were wide with heavy tears, her skin paler than Burt had ever seen it.   
“Blayne…”  
She sobbed, her knees giving out as she lurched forward. Burt caught her with the practiced grace of a father, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He eased her onto the floor, giving her space to breathe.  
“I’m so sorry,” Blayne cried. She clutched at her arms, pressing her lips together and attempting a brave gust of air. She failed.  
Burt reached out blindly, hands hovering above her. His trick knee ached as he joined her on the floor. “Blayne- Blaine-son- shit…”  
She cried harder. He took a deep breathe.  
“Blayne, honey, Kurt’s gonna be here soon and you’re gonna have some explaining to do if you’re still like this when he’s here. I need you to breathe, Blayne, I need you to breathe.”  
Blayne nodded, reaching to yank off her bowtie as she quivered through focused spurts of air. Staring at the tie for a moment, she burst into tears once more, tossing it aside.  
Burt closed his eyes, cursing internally. Finally, he placed a hand on Blayne’s shoulder. He sang in an grumbly sort of voice, straining to stay on key.  
“Oh! Darling, please believe me  
I'll never do you no harm  
Believe me when I tell you  
I'll never do you no harm  
Oh! Darling, if you leave me  
I'll never make it alone  
Believe me when I thank you, ooo  
Don't ever leave me alone”  
As he came to an end, Blayne’s restless body began to still, her chest relaxing as she fell into his touch.  
She sniffed. “Burt…”  
“Look Blayne, I’m not going to pretend I know whats going on or what you’re going through, but I know I care about you like you’re my own-”   
Blayne looked carefully at the floor.  
“My own kid. And Kurt loves you more than anything, you know that.”  
She turned to him, her face brazenly brave. “I’m a woman, Burt,”  
He swallowed. “I wish I could sit here and promise my son won’t care Blayne…”  
“But he will,” she said quietly. They both sighed. Her little shoulders appeared to seem heavier in a way, although she had clearly let so much out. Too much weight for a kid like her to carry, Burt could tell.  
“It would bring up some struggles,” Burt agreed.   
“I need to clean up,” she said, rising to her feet. The older man followed, helping her up with a tug of her left hand. She stared at his grasp, pushing her lips together. He withdrew his hand quickly.  
“Sorry-”  
“No, it’s okay,” she said. “It’s kind of nice.”  
He rubbed his head, covering it quickly with his NYC baseball cap. Reaching for his wallet, he flicked out two crisp twenty dollar bills.  
“Get a storage locker,” he said evenly. “You need a place for this stuff till you’re… Ready,”  
She smoothed out her hair. “I can’t-”  
The front door rattled. “Dad! Blaine! My hands are full, can you get the door?”  
Blayne looked like she might throw up. She scurried towards the bathroom.  
“Just a minute, kid, we’re carrying some stuff,” Burt called to the front of the loft. He followed Blayne, stopping the door before she locked it shut. He pressed the money into her hand.  
“Oh and Blayne?”   
“Yes, Mr. Hummel?”  
“That dress was really pretty. I bet it looks nice on you,” He offered her a small smile, releasing the cash with a sense of finality. Flushing scarlet, she shook her head before closing the door.


	4. Are You Hurting The One You Love?

Her apartment was an absolute disaster. Clothes lay strewn across the hardwood, glass from broken picture frames shattered. The whole world seemed to shiver in the darkness.

And in the center of it all, Blayne sat in a pretty, pink dress. The dress floated around her, draping across her flat chest like a pale sheet. She wasn’t crying, not anymore. She was a bit done with that. Tears didn’t seem to solve anything. 

It had started with a text from Kurt.

Bringing my barber kit with me tonight. You know you love it when I cut your hair! xx-Kurt

It was true, Blayne did love it when Kurt cut her hair. His long fingers curling through her hair, the smell of product filling the air. And at least she didn’t have to wear gel when he did her hair. But the end product.

The shorn curls, the buzzed ends of her dark locks. It was a nightmare only horrible enough for reality.

She had shook when she read the text. It was the first time since that terrifying move-in day that Kurt would cut her hair. Since she had felt Burt’s arms lift her up. Since she had purchased the lockable trunk for her clothes with the money he had given her. She had only meant to open the case for a moment, look at the delicate trappings of her womanhood before Kurt came over.

She had pulled the heavy dress over her body like a cageless trap, sighing as the lace stoked over her hairy legs. The strength the dress gave her was overwhelming, fragile and blossoming, creating a storm in her heart.

And so here she was, surrounded by the remains of her mask. Ties torn, collars cut from their shirts, mens shoes roughly scuffed. Kurt would cry if he saw such a travesty.

A knock came at the door. “Blaine?” Kurt’s voice sang out. “It’s me,”

Blayne pressed her lips together, running her hands through her hair. “Go- Go away, Kurt,” she moaned.

“Babe?” Kurt responded, worry coloring his tone. “Blaine, what’s wrong?”

Blayne sobbed silently, no tears tracing her face. She wiped her hands on the dress, crawling slowly to the door. She knelt beside it, kicking off her purple heels to lean against the door. “Kurt, please just go home,”

The doorknob shook violently.

“Blaine? Blaine please just let me in,” Kurt was near tears. Blayne could imagine him perfectly, eyes clear as a stormy sea, hands worrying near his chin. “Are you okay?”

“I’m-I’m fine, nothing...I’m not hurt,”

“Then what’s going on, Blaine?” The doorknob quaked again.

Blayne’s head shook as she stared at her frantically painted nails, the pink glitter mocking her.

“I’m just not feeling well,” she croaked out.

The door slammed suddenly, startling Blaine out of her gazing.

“Blaine, we both know if that was true, I’d be in there taking care of you,” Kurt yelled.

Silence for a few moments. Blayne could feel him taking shaky breathes against the door.

“Blaine, baby, please just tell me what’s wrong,”

Blayne pursed her lips. “I just…” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to cut my hair,”

“What?”

She twisted her ring finger, picturing a ring on it, a black tux, a forever. She couldn’t do it.

“I want to grow my hair out,”

More relief. “Is that all?”

She could do it. Right now, on this winter night, in her pink lacy dress, she could tell him. She wouldn’t even have to face his disappointment. He’d just leave. Like he’d never even been there. Which he hadn’t really. Not for Blayne.

She swallowed. “Yeah, I just, I know you like it short but-”

“No, no babe, it’s your hair. You know I can be so self-centered, you should’ve spoke up sooner,”

Standing carefully, she kicked her heels out of her path. She wiped at her make-up, lifting the hem of her dress to clean her face. She stared at herself in the mirror. A quick tug and the dress was gone, thrown to the floor.

“Blaine? You still there?”

“Y-Yeah,”

“Can I come in?”

She glanced around the apartment, taking in the disaster surrounding her. She opened the door a crack, taking care to keep her nails hidden behind the door.

Kurt was on the floor, barber kit kicked to a corner of the hallway and bag thrown across his lap. He looked up eagerly, releasing his hands from where they were fisted his hair. He stood.

Blayne’s eyes went wide as she took in the tear tracks on his cheeks. “I want to grow it... really long,” she confided.

“That’s totally fine, Blaine,” Kurt softly said. “I’m so sorry I made you upset,” He leaned forward, cupping her cheek. “I love you for you,”

Thinking of the secret she kept so hidden, she sniffed. “Right,”

He glanced at her naked torso, blocking the entrance to the apartment. “Is everything okay in there?” he asked, making to push the door open.

“No!” she said, pushing against his attempt. “No, it’s umm… Well I kind of made a mess freaking out about all this,”

Kurt laughed. “Just next time try asking me before you assume my reaction,”

She nodded. Pulling her out of the doorway slightly, Kurt captured her lips in a kiss, stroking her cheek. Breathing uneven, Blayne swayed slightly. He released her.

“I’m a mysterious guy,” Kurt mused. “I’m full of surprises,”

If only he knew, Blayne thought miserably.


End file.
